


Raised by Wolves

by softiejace



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (for the epilogue), Activism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bigotry & Prejudice, Bisexual Character, Discrimination, Established Relationship, FUCK JKR all my homies hate jkr, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Neck Kissing, Nonbinary Character, Protests, Scars, Sirius needs love and attention, Trans Character, Weed is consumed in this one folks, Werewolf Activist Remus Lupin, Werewolf Discrimination, Werewolf Remus Lupin, Werewolves, background jily and dorcas/marlene whatever their ship name is, cw drugs, making harry potter characters trans is obligatory at this point just as a fuck you to jkr, sirius "does not have a biting kink", some werewolves?? joke about biting people??? to cope??, the wizarding government kind of sucks y'all. also acab includes aurors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26126569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softiejace/pseuds/softiejace
Summary: “So as I’ve said, my name is Remus Lupin, my pronouns are he or they, I’m 22 years old and a teacher trainee - but the reason I am standing in front of you here today is because I am a Werewolf.”Several people whoop, someone yells “Hell yeah!”, and Lily even puts two fingers in her mouth to whistle.Remus grins a little abashedly.But Sirius sits frozen, his breath stuck halfway down his windpipe.What?
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 25
Kudos: 209





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something that explores how being a Werewolf could overlap and interact with other marginalised identities in modern society. All forms of discrimination that we know irl should technically still exist in the Harry Potter universe, but JKR ignored many of them or tried to replace them (like Pureblood Supremacy seems to have replaced actual racism) or mirror them with fictional ones (like using Werewolves as a metaphor for HIV positive people). So this is my attempt at fixing some of that.
> 
> I know there are already Werewolf activism fics out there, but I wanted to write my own - I can't recall having read any of them, so I hope I haven't unknowingly copied anything!
> 
> All information on Werewolves that I haven't taken from the Harry Potter fandom wiki came from my own brain, including the pro-Werewolf organisations mentioned in this fic.
> 
> Remus is black in this au, but I am white, so if you have any criticism or feedback regarding this representation, please let me know! Always trying to improve. <3
> 
> Thank you to my beta Yulian, your help is always so appreciated!

There is already a small crowd gathered in front of the Shakespeare statue when they arrive at Leicester Square. Sirius trails a few feet behind James and his girlfriend, taking in the scene as they enter the small park and make their way towards its center.

The Square is usually quite busy with its proximity to several large cinemas and the park is no exception on this sunny Saturday in August. But the group of about two or three dozen people who have come together in the middle of the park are clearly here with a purpose.

He catches up to James, elbowing his friend. “Oi. What exactly is this event?”

All James said this morning when he burst into Sirius’ room earlier than Sirius liked to be awake, was that he was going to an event with Lily that afternoon and she specifically told him to invite Sirius along. 

As if he couldn’t keep himself busy. 

Lily pokes her head around from James’ other side before he can respond. “My friend is having a rally.”

“A rally,” Sirius repeats.

“Yep. You know, like a protest -”

“I know what a rally is,” Sirius interrupts her, a little irritated.

Lily smiles, unaffected by his mood. “It’s really good of you to come along, you know. The bigger the audience, the better.”

Well, at least it doesn’t seem to be a date, then. Sirius has had quite enough of feeling like a third-wheel ever since James has reconnected with his school crush.

“And he’s been so worried no one would come,” Lily continues, before pointing towards the statue. “Ah, there he is!”

And she lets go of James’ hand to dart forward and fling her arms around the neck of a young man who then proceeds to wrap her in a tight embrace.

Sirius raises an eyebrow at James, who shrugs. So he doesn’t know the guy either.

Sirius has so far had no particular reason to dislike Lily Evans, not unless you count the fact that she has recently caused James to spend much more time out of the house and consequently less time having two person quidditch matches with Sirius in the Potters’ spacious back garden. And he is not petty enough to let this fact influence his opinion of her. Really. That would be ridiculous.

There is of course always an awkwardness to becoming reacquainted with someone who knew you pre-transition, but Lily has yet to slip up on his name and pronouns, so he can hardly hold anything against her there.

But if she hurts James --

Lily has now disentangled herself from her friend and is waving frantically at them, which James takes as his cue to approach them, Sirius following behind reluctantly.

“James, this is my best friend Remus.”

James immediately sticks out his hand with the polite smile of a boy raised in high society. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Remus doesn’t have to tilt his head up to meet James’ eye, which places him at about 6 feet, and 5 inches above Sirius. 

He's gangly, with brown skin and brown curly hair, and in spite of the summer heat he’s wearing a long-sleeved button up tucked fashionably into his trousers. 

Sirius is sweating even in his tank top, although its black colour and the binder he’s wearing underneath are probably at fault for that. 

Remus shakes James’ hand.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says with a pleasantly gravelly voice and a side-eye at Lily. 

“Hopefully only good things.”

Remus hums thoughtfully. “Hmm. I’ll make up my own mind about that.”

Lily pushes his shoulder with a laugh. “Remus remembers my complaints about you back when we were at Hogwarts.”

James seems a little surprised at that, although Sirius knows for a fact that he got up to a lot in his teenage years which he has since come to regret. It’s really not that strange to think that as a prefect, Lily would have complained about him to her friends, but then James asks, “What house were you in? I don’t think we ever met.”

“Oh, I didn’t attend. Homeschooled.”

That’s… odd. Sirius could swear the Ministry had passed a law against homeschooling even before he was born due to a fear of Dark Magic being taught by certain families. He can faintly recall his parents complaining about how rundown Hogwarts had become, even considering sending their children to Durmstrang, until they consoled themselves with the certainty that their children would be in good company in Slytherin. 

Hah.

Unless Remus did not go to Hogwarts because he’s a Muggle - but then would Lily speak so openly in front of him? Maybe he’s a squib-

Lily disrupts Sirius' thought process by introducing him as James’ brother.

Then Remus turns his attention to Sirius, and his mind is wiped blank of any thought.

Amber.

Remus’ eyes are the colour of amber - of warm gold, of honey, of the setting sun - 

He could compare them to a hundred things and none of them would quite capture their strange and intense glow. 

Remus’ gaze is similarly intense, and Sirius feels for a moment as though he must be able to see through right to the very core of him. 

He suppresses a shudder. 

“Good to meet you, Sirius.”

Sirius swallows and it takes him a few seconds to gather himself enough to utter a croaky, “You too.”

Now that he’s facing him, the scars crossing one side of Remus’ face are impossible to overlook. There are four of them: One cutting through his left eyebrow and across the bridge of his nose. Another curves from his temple down across his cheek, narrowly missing the corner of his eye. A third, carved into his skin parallel to it, reaches down far enough to have left a tiny slit in his upper lip, though not so far as to split it. The last one is merely a dash above his jawline.

They are paler than the rest of his skin and have clearly healed a long time ago, but at one point they must have been rather nasty cuts, anything but superficial. And they look almost intentional. At least he can't imagine what kind of accident would lead to such parallel lines.

The scars don’t spoil his looks, but Sirius would be lying if he said they don’t make him feel a little queasy at first glance.

“Hey Remus, you almost ready?”

Remus turns his head and Sirius follows his gaze to where two people have set up a small podium with a standing desk in front of the Shakespeare statue and next to it a table with what looks like a bunch of merchandise on it.

As he watches, someone fixes a flag to the front of the table with the silhouette of two dogs surrounded by the cycle of the moon on it.

“I’ll be right there!” 

Remus throws a toothy grin at Lily, rubbing his hands together. 

“That’s my cue.”

“Good luck, Remus. You’re going to be amazing, I know it.”

“Thanks.”

Remus nods at James and Sirius before stepping up behind the standing desk, and Lily tugs them over to a nearby bench that they squeeze onto. Several other benches are already occupied and people are standing behind them, sitting on the ground in front of them, as well as crowded on the green areas from where they still have a view of Remus.

A hush falls over them as though everyone here is waiting for Remus to speak - as though none of them are simply passers-by or tourists…

“So, uhh. Hi everyone.” Remus lifts his hand for an awkward little wave. “Thank you all for coming. As you can probably tell, the Ministry was kind enough to shield this area from Muggles for the duration of the rally. They’ve also sent an auror for our protection, so thank you for that.” 

He pauses for a reluctant smattering of applause. 

_Ah_ , Sirius thinks, _that explains it_.

“Some of you may know me. My name is Remus Lupin, I’m with the RWC who have organised this rally.” He gestures towards the table where two people are standing, their t-shirts bearing the same logo as the flag hanging down from the table.

“We are supported today by the WLA who have helped fund this event and whose flyers you can also find on that table.”

More enthusiastic applause follows when he pauses this time.

“Alright!” Remus claps his hands together, letting his amber eyes sweep the crowd for a moment. “So as I’ve said, my name is Remus Lupin, my pronouns are he or they, I’m 22 years old and a teacher trainee - but the reason I am standing in front of you here today is because I am a Werewolf.”

Several people whoop, someone yells “Hell yeah!”, and Lily even puts two fingers in her mouth to whistle. 

Remus grins a little abashedly.

But Sirius sits frozen, his breath stuck halfway down his windpipe. 

_What?_

“So maybe before I start talking about myself, I should give you all a little overview of RWC, which is the Raised by Wolves Collective, and why we are hosting this rally today. We’re basically a self-help group focused on creating community and facilitating mutual aid. So unlike the WLA - sorry, the Werewolf Liberation Association - we are not legal experts, and unlike the SWL - the Society for the Welfare of Lycanthropes -” 

Remus is briefly interrupted by scattered boos that are quickly shut down by someone yelling, “Yo, let him speak!”

_What the hell is happening here?_

Sirius glances over at James, prepared to give him a pointed _Did you know about this?_ look, but James has his arm around Lily and head resting on top of hers and does not seem perturbed in the slightest. 

“- we aren’t government funded, so any donations you want to make to our cause are appreciated! And unlike any other Pro-Werewolf organisation, we are entirely Werewolf founded and led, since our mission is to provide inter-community exchange. You can sign up for our mailing list right there on the table, or if you want to be more discreet, just go to our website raisedbywolves.co and contact us there! - Anyway, enough about us. The purpose of this rally is to raise awareness for the many issues affecting our community to this day and to give a platform to a diverse range of opinions, because obviously, not a single one of us can speak for all of us, and every Wolf experiences life differently and may have different needs.”

Needs? The only need Sirius has ever heard of Werewolves having is the urge to kill or infect others. And what if _that_ is the real purpose of them gathering people here? What if the auror isn’t actually there to protect them --

He reaches over to tug on James’ sleeve, but James just grabs his hand and holds onto it, leaning over to whisper, “I know this seems disconcerting, but hear him out, okay? Lily has assured me that it’s perfectly safe to attend. Besides - it’s not a full moon.”

Sirius is not entirely convinced, but James pressing his hand helps a little bit. That, and the knowledge that his wand is at hand in his jeans pocket.

While he was zoned out, Remus has continued speaking.

“The most common and most commonly known type of Werewolf is obviously one who was infected through bite. Infection through bite can only happen during a full moon when a Werewolf is in wolf form. Generally, anyone can be turned, but Muggles more often die than they are actually turned. Once the Werewolf’s saliva mingles with a person’s blood after the bite, they are infected and will undergo their first transformation during the next full moon.” 

Remus pauses for a moment as if to collect himself, and when he continues, his tone has shifted from an informing one to something more personal. 

“As you can clearly tell,” he says with a wry smile, drawing a circle around his face with one hand, “I’m one of those who was infected through bite.”

Sirius hears himself draw in a sharp breath.

The scars. They’re not bite marks, obviously, but what else could they be if not claw marks? 

“I’ve been a Werewolf for 18 years of my life at this point,” Remus says, and before Sirius can even do the math, he adds, “so I was bitten when I was four.”

Four. Four years old. Sirius swallows against a growing lump in his throat, and in front of his inner eye a blurry image of Remus as a small child forms against his will.

_What kind of monster would attack a four-year-old child?_

“The older ones among you may have heard about my case because it was in the Daily Prophet at the time, and it was done by one of the most notorious Werewolves in Britain whose name I see no need to mention. I want to tell you this story from my point of view. I will not go into detail, because to most of us, the event of our infection is a highly traumatic memory and I don’t want to trigger anyone here. But it’s important to me, because the story the Prophet published played into a lot of negative stereotypes.”

Sirius is too young to remember anything about a well-known case of a Werewolf attack on a child, but he thinks he has a good idea of who this Werewolf must be. There’s only one name that comes to mind, and when he glances at James, he sees him mouthing it.

_Fenrir Greyback._

Sirius actually feels a chill go down his spine just thinking about him. 

“My father used to work for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures . When I was very young, he was involved in questioning some Werewolves following the deaths of two Muggle children. One of them was released because he was not on the Register, but not before he could hear my father, who had recognised some characteristics in him, exclaim that Werewolves were - warning for Lycanthrophobia - ‘soulless, evil, deserving nothing but death.’”

He pauses to allow for a few angry boos. 

“It was shortly before my fifth birthday that this Werewolf entered our house during a full moon night and bit me before my father could drive him away. My parents tried everything, but there is no way to reverse the infection, and Wolfsbane had not been invented yet. Because my father was a well-known Ministry official, the Prophet then used this event and other attacks by that particular Werewolf to fuel the ongoing anti-Werewolf debate, the lasting damage of which we are still fighting today. They jumped on the case because it was a perfect corroboration of the deeply-held prejudices against Werewolves in our society. But although it has often been speculated, there is no evidence that this Werewolf placed himself deliberately near our house with the intention to infect me after transformation. And I want to make it clear that I do not blame him.”

A murmur goes around the crowd at that point. 

Sirius can only stare at Remus. Everything he has heard about Greyback seems to suggest that infecting a child as revenge is exactly the sort of thing he would do. How can he not blame him for such a vicious attack?

“I used to," Remus explains. "I used to be very angry and upset about what had happened to me, but the thing is - once you’ve experienced it yourself, you know that in wolf form a Werewolf does not think like a human. There is nothing rational or malicious about hunting, it is based on pure instinct. So it’s essentially impossible to plan an attack because once transformed, you would not be able to remember your plan. Even if he was in the vicinity of our house with that intention, it would have been a gamble.

Of course this doesn’t make his actions in human form any less irresponsible or reckless. But I can’t blame him for anything he did in wolf form, because it’s something that I could have done as well in his situation. I think it’s much more important to examine what causes a Werewolf to end up in such a situation. Lack of access to health care - physical as well as mental, constant stigmatisation and dehumanisation, the ever-present threat of homelessness, poverty, and persecution all contribute to circumstances that ultimately make a Werewolf dangerous to their surroundings.

A Werewolf is not inherently a threat. The difference between me and him and many other less fortunate Wolves is that I was not kicked out and abandoned by my family. I did not have to go through decades of physically and psychologically gruelling transformations on my own. I had access to Wolfsbane as soon as it was put on the market. I was educated at home and able to graduate. This is not to say I have not experienced my fair share of anti-Werewolf discrimination, especially since I stopped trying to cover up my eyes or scars, but I’ve been lucky in that regard. A lot of Werewolves aren’t as lucky.”

When Remus breaks off this time, one of his mates from the RWC team hands him a water bottle and squeezes his shoulder. Sirius can see his hands shake as he struggles to unscrew the lid for a moment.

There are some calls of affirmation and encouragement, and after taking a long drink of water, Remus gives the crowd a strained smile before he continues.

“So I’ve mentioned discrimination against Wolves. In the beginning, I briefly talked about the Werewolf turned through bite being the most common type of Wolf. This, of course, suggests that there is another type.”

The way he looks around the crowd reminds Sirius of a teacher waiting for someone in class to volunteer an answer. 

“There is only one way for a Werewolf to infect another person, and that is through bite in wolf form during the full moon. But there is another way to become a Werewolf, and that is to be born one. - I see some surprised faces. Yes, when one or both of your parents are Wolves, there is a certain probability that you will inherit this trait. Maybe you’ve never heard of someone born as a Werewolf. And in fact, there aren't many Werewolves who were born this way. This is because up until very recently Werewolves were not allowed to marry... unless we underwent sterilisation first.”

An outcry goes through the crowd now, and Sirius feels it reverberate in himself. He hasn’t expected the speech to take this turn. Something about the Werewolf condition being used to deny a person’s right to marriage and even to encroach upon their bodily autonomy…

“It is only thanks to the tireless efforts of the Werewolf Liberation Association,” Remus continues a little louder, his eyes now blazing and hands braced against the desk, “that the Wizengamot ruled in favour of Werewolves being allowed to marry at all, and then finally repealed the law that required us to be sterilised only a few years ago. So please, give a big hand for the WLA.”

Sirius joins in the round of applause without a second thought. 

“Since then, a baby born to a Werewolf must have their lycanthropy status determined within a month to decide if their name will be added to the Werewolf Register. Which brings me to another topic - the Werewolf Registry. The Ministry of Magic keeps a mandatory list of every Werewolf residing in the UK and Ireland. While the original purpose of the list was to control the Werewolf population and occasionally to find and hunt down those deemed an inconvenience to the Statute of Secrecy, it is used today to determine who can apply for a prescription of Wolfsbane - the potion that helps us maintain our human intellect in spite of the transformation. As you can imagine, there is still a large dark number of Werewolves who are not on the Register, partly because the Registry was for a long time very neglectful in maintaining it, but also due to fear and shame. A lot of Werewolves try to hide their condition at least during the first couple of months or years, which is obviously very difficult and can be dangerous, especially if you live in a densely populated area.

There is a lot of stigma and prejudice surrounding our condition, which leads to all manner of disadvantages. For example, transformations take a huge toll on the body, and additionally, many Werewolves, in trying to isolate themselves to protect others, end up inflicting injuries upon themselves. Yet most of them won’t seek medical treatment for their wounds for fear of their condition being discovered. We are at a higher risk of poor health due to discrimination in the healthcare system. Because of our isolation and the dehumanisation we are subjected to, Werewolves are also at higher risk of poor mental health, which in most cases remains untreated. The average life expectancy of a Werewolf in the UK is estimated to be a whopping twenty to thirty years less than that of other Magical folks, and it is obvious that all of these things contribute to that fact.

Monthly transformations also mean regular inability to attend work for up to a week, longer if we have sustained injuries. Thus, because most work environments are not safe for us to disclose our condition and be allowed to take those days off, many Werewolves can only keep a job for a few months at a time and don’t have a stable income. And that’s not even going into the anti-Werewolf legislation drafted by Umbridge in the early 90s - I was born in the year that it was overturned. This leads to a constant threat of poverty and homelessness. I’m sure you can see how a Werewolf without a safe place to hide themselves during the full moon and without access to Wolfsbane is in a desperate situation and becomes a danger to themselves and the people around them.

An additional factor making it harder for Werewolves to get a well-paid job is lack of education. I, like many others who were turned at a young age or born Werewolves, was homeschooled. My friend Dorcas will go further into the reason why and what our demands are in the field of education. And on top of all that, if you have any other marginalised identity, often those forms of discrimination will overlap and add to each other. White supremacy leads to Black people being treated as subhuman, to Black men being treated as predators. Consider how that is amplified if you are Black and also a Werewolf. And if you’re LGBTQ+, mainstream society tends to view your existence as disgusting, inappropriate and potentially dangerous to children. Think about what that means for a queer Werewolf. Or maybe you're Muggle-born and affected by Pureblood supremacy, or you have a mental illness...”

Remus takes another break to finish off his water and roll up the sleeves of his shirt. The sun is bearing down upon the park now and from where he’s sitting, Sirius can see how Remus’ curls cling to his temples with sweat.

“So after all of this talk about how we are discriminated against, I just want to stress one more thing. To all of you out there who have had little contact with Werewolves before and may still have some concerns - in most aspects, we are just like you. We spend about 97% of our lives in human form. There is no danger associating with us except during the full moon, a time at which we will avoid human contact anyway. Outliers like the Werewolf who bit me are not representative of the Werewolf community, and it is my firm belief that as Werewolves gain more acceptance in our society, less and less are going to turn out like him. Lycanthropy is not the plague. It can only be spread through descent or bites in wolf form. It is perfectly safe to shake hands with a Werewolf, drink from the same bottle as a Werewolf, or even fuck a Werewolf. None of these things bear any risk of infection, all of them are perfectly safe. - Unless you’re doing it with a Werewolf in wolf form, probably, then best of luck to you.”

The last sentence is uttered with such a deadpan face that it takes Sirius a moment to get the joke. By the time he chokes out a laugh, the gale of laughter passing through the crowd has already died down, and Remus’ honey-gold eyes land briefly on him.

If he felt hot before in the midday heat, it is nothing compared to the flush that now spreads from his face down to his chest. He barely takes note of Remus’ words of conclusion and thanks.

* * *

Suddenly, Remus is no longer behind the standing desk and has joined them at their bench, receiving another hug from Lily.

“You did so great! I’m really proud of you, Remus.”

“Seeing you there helped. I feel like I was sweating buckets.”

He pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket to dab his forehead. 

“It was very informative,” James says, giving Sirius a little nudge with his elbow.

What can he possibly say? Damn near everything he thought he knew about Werewolves has just been exposed as fear-mongering and propaganda. 

He clears his throat. “Nothing we ever learned in DADA, that’s for sure.”

Remus laughs grimly. “Yeah, Dorcas has something to say about that.”

He nods to the standing desk which has been taken over by another member of his team in the meantime.

They take their seats again, and somehow, in the process of making room for Remus, Lily ends up on James’ lap while Remus ends up… next to Sirius.

There’s not enough space on the bench to avoid their arms brushing, and Sirius tries very hard not to tense up. He doesn’t want to give the impression that he has a fear of contact, not after everything Remus has said about stigma, it’s just that Remus is very, very handsome with his curls and his rolled-up sleeves exposing veiny forearms and his fiery delivery of a speech about social injustices, and Sirius may be feeling a little bit breathless in his proximity.

“Hi everybody! I’m Dorcas, I use they/them pronouns and I’m 20 years old,” the person behind the standing desk introduces themself. The colour of their hijab is matched perfectly by violet lipstick.

“I’m also with the RWC like Remus, I joined about a year ago. And four years ago, I was the first Werewolf to officially attend Hogwarts… for all of six months.”

 _We just so missed each other_ , Sirius thinks. They started the year after he and James got their N.E.W.T.s. He doesn’t know the statistics, Remus hasn’t mentioned an estimate of how many Werewolves there are in the UK, but it seems absurd that there has never been one at Hogwarts before them.

“I was homeschooled, with an examiner sent by the Ministry every year to determine my progress, up to the age of 15 when my mother thought I would do better on my O.W.L.s if I actually got to attend proper classes. We couldn’t afford a private tutor, so until then she had been teaching me with the help of her old school books and what she could remember from her time at Hogwarts. She had kept Professor Dumbledore in good memory, so she wrote to him asking if it would be possible, since Wolfsbane had only come into use a few months prior.

There is no formal rule that excludes Werewolves from attending Hogwarts if they are members of the Magical community. However, there would obviously need to be somewhere for me to transform safely, even on Wolfsbane, and I would have to be excused from missing class every month. But the headmaster assured us that all would be arranged for my coming, and so I boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time as an almost 16 year old, very excited to finally be a normal teenager. And it was great… at first. I was sorted with all the tiny little First Years - Gryffindor, by the way -” they say, and James lets out a whoop, causing Dorcas to grin.

“After the sorting I was immediately sent to the headmaster’s office where the Potions Master and the nurse were present. We were informed that no one outside of this room should find out about my condition. The Potions Master would supply me with Wolfsbane every month and the nurse would take me to and from a little hut where I could transform and stay hidden for the duration of the full moon. All my mates in Fifth Year were terribly interested in the reason I had only joined them now. I already kind of stood out because of my hijab and everything. But all I could tell them according to Professor Dumbledore’s instructions was that I had been homeschooled due to an illness, and this illness meant that I still had to go to the hospital wing once every month. At first, the girls were very sympathetic. They offered to take notes for me, let me copy their homework, and generally would check up on me to ask how I was feeling. I could tell they were curious, and it sucked to not be allowed to tell them more as I felt we were becoming friends. But I would soon find out why.

Classes at Hogwarts were challenging, and I was ill-prepared for some of them. And as most of the teachers did not know why, they had little sympathy for me. But the worst of it was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Because in Fifth Year, they were covering Werewolves.”

A murmur goes through the crowd, and Dorcas nods.

“Yup. And I don’t know how many of you have seen the study materials Hogwarts students receive about Werewolves, but boy, are they outdated. For one thing, they only mentioned at the very beginning that Werewolves are ‘humans who suffer from lycanthropy’. For the rest of the lesson, the sole focus was on Werewolves in wolf form. We were described as monstrous and dangerous and to be avoided at all costs. It definitely played into the whole dehumanisation thing Remus mentioned. And then the class was given the homework of describing how we would go about killing a Werewolf if we ever came across one. So that was kind of re-traumatising, and I couldn’t tell any of my friends about it.”

They pause for a moment, and the person who handed Remus the water bottle earlier walks up to give them a quick hug.

After a moment, Dorcas continues, “My monthly disappearances went alright for a while, although sometimes, one of the girls would try to visit me in the hospital wing on the day of the full moon, and Madam Pomfrey would have to hold them off because I either wasn’t present or obviously injured.

But eventually, someone noticed a pattern. I don’t know where the whisper began, but it spread quickly and soon followed me wherever I passed by, and I noticed my friends looking at me differently. I went to talk to the headmaster to tell him about my concerns, and he offered to dispel the rumours, even to place a confounding spell on the students in question. I was tired of hiding, but I said I would think about it.

It never got to that though, because the very next day, one of the girls in my dorm received a letter from her parents, telling her that they had heard rumours of a Werewolf at Hogwarts and could she confirm that? We were sitting in the Great Hall at breakfast, and she turned to look directly at me. 

I didn’t confirm it of course, because at this point, I knew that Hogwarts was not a safe space for a Werewolf. But my silence was confirmation enough. Suddenly, more letters started to come in, letters by parents threatening to withdraw their children unless Professor Dumbledore could ensure their safety. 

I didn’t want to wait until everyone found out that it was me. So I wrote to my mother, and at the end of the week she came to take me home.

So that was the end of my brief school career. I did not get a chance to take the exams, but I managed to scrape by with acceptable marks on my O.W.L.s at the end of the year at home. Not good enough to bother pursuing N.E.W.T.s, though. So I’ve got a Muggle job now - I’m a tattoo artist, and I enjoy it. But it would’ve been nice if I had gotten the choice.

Basically, I think the moral of my tale is that it’s not enough to give a Werewolf a cell to transform in and basic health care without making an effort to change the prejudices your students and teachers have against Werewolves. I don’t know if any Werewolf has come after me or if Professor Dumbledore has made any changes to the curriculum since I was there. I also don’t know if they’ve done anything about the binary gendered dorms yet, because that seems kind of a glaring issue in 2020 - I guess it was lucky I hadn’t figured all that out about myself yet back then. So far, it seems that the school has always bowed to the pressure of the parents and the Ministry. And work needs to be done in all areas to dispel the myths about and fears of Werewolves. Not just about Werewolves, either, because I’ve definitely also received ignorant comments about my religion while I was there, but that’s another story. Lycanthrophobia is a form of discrimination that’s pretty much unique to Magical society, and until Hogwarts as the only school of Magic in the UK puts in the work, I’m unfortunately sure that any Werewolf to openly attend is going to be subjected to bullying. And it sucks because as members of the Magical community, we should all have equal opportunities when it comes to education. - Thank you.”

As Dorcas leaves the standing desk under rapturous applause, Remus leaps to his feet to hug them. Afterwards, he takes up their position behind the table so they can go sit in the shade of a nearby tree.

The other RWC member present, with short, bleached blond hair, steps up to the standing desk briefly. “Alright, I know that must have been a lot to take in! So we’re going to take a quick break now and then we would like to call Mr Podmore from the WLA up to give an account of their current activist goals before we open up for spontaneous contributions. Have some water, stretch your legs.”

Lily stands. “I think I’m going to find a bathroom and something to drink.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” James stretches his arms over his head, yawning. “You coming, Sirius?”

Sirius shakes his head. “I think I’ll just… sit in the shade for a bit.”

“Want me to bring you back a coke or something?”

“Yes, please.” 

When James and Lily leave the park and head towards the corner of fast food restaurants, Sirius looks around for a shady spot. All the trees seem to be taken. Under the nearest one, Dorcas has been joined by the blonde whose head is resting in their lap. Which means…

Remus is the only one left behind the table. And there is a pavilion above it, so it’s not like there’s no shade. 

Sirius waits until the few people milling about have moved before he strolls over with what he hopes is an air of nonchalance.

Remus is scrolling through his phone, but looks up when Sirius makes it there.

“Hey. Looking for anything in particular?”

“Uhh.” Sirius clears his throat and scans the table.

There are two stacks of flyers, the aforementioned mailing list, a bowl of buttons…

“You’ve got buttons?”

“Oh, yeah. Take a look.”

Remus pushes the bowl towards him.

There’s a number of buttons bearing the same logo as the one on the flag - which Sirius can now tell depicts Werewolves, not dogs - in different colours, but there are also ones with aesthetically pleasing illustrations of moons, wolves, bared teeth and clawed paws combined with short phrases. 

_Lone Wolf Club._

_I only bite once in a blue moon._

_Look out for your fellow monsters._

_My alone time is for your safety._

_I survived._

_I howl at the moon but it never responds._

_They always say Werewolf but never Howwolf._

That one makes him chuckle.

“Found one you like?”

Sirius holds it up to him. “The pun is so bad it’s good.”

Remus looks pleased. “Marlene almost refused to print it.”

“You came up with it?”

“Well, some of them. This one, too.”

Remus reaches into the bowl, rummaging for a moment before he finds the button he’s looking for.

“ _When I said Bite Me, I was joking._ \- Oh, Merlin. That’s kind of… dark, isn’t it?”

“Got to cope somehow,” Remus says with a shrug.

“Fair enough. I mean it is funny, I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

Sirius carefully drops the buttons back in the bowl. 

“Nothing for you?”

“Well, I’m not a Werewolf, so I don’t think it would be appropriate.”

“You could take one of these, as an ally,” Remus says, reaching into the bowl again and dropping a button into Sirius’ hand. “That way you’re helping us spread awareness.”

It bears the silhouette of a wolf’s head accompanied by the words “Werewolves are human, too.”

Sirius runs his thumb over the wolf’s head. 

“Thanks. How much do you take for these?”

“Just a donation, if you can spare anything.”

Sirius fixes the button to the front of his tank top and reaches into his jeans pocket to drop a galleon into the donation can on the table. 

Remus’ eyes seem a little wide when he looks up.

“That’s… very generous, thank you.”

Sirius shrugs. “I’m sure old Uncle Alphard would approve of how I'm spending his inheritance. He was rather fond of social outcasts and blood traitors. Got himself disowned by the family for it. I’m just following in his footsteps.” 

Remus’ face does something complicated.

“Oh. Your family… they’re Purebloods?”

Sirius lowers his gaze. “Were. Well. They still are. But they’re not _my family_ anymore. The Potters took me in like seven years ago.”

“Ah. Umm… good for you?”

A laugh escapes Sirius. “Yeah, it was.”

“So,” Remus tilts his head to the side, his eyes glinting. “You were a bit of a rebel?”

“I mean, my getting into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin thing pissed them off big-time, but they couldn’t totally blame it on me,” Sirius says with pretend nonchalance, as though his heart is not beating against his ribcage like it does every time he’s about to come out to someone. “The trans thing, though, was really the final nail in the coffin.”

Remus’ mouth forms a perfect O, but before he can say anything, a pair of arms snake around his waist and a blonde head appears above his shoulder. 

“Successfully promoting the Collective?”

Sirius watches Remus’ hands fold over his team member's, intertwining their fingers.

“I was, until you so rudely interrupted us,” Remus responds, gently removing the hands from his waist. Their hands swing between them for a moment before they both let go and the newcomer turns to Sirius.

Sirius has just enough time to read the "Marlene (she/her)" button on her t-shirt before she asks, “How much did he make you fork out for the cause?”

Sirius splutters. “He didn’t _make_ me donate.”

Marlene raises an eyebrow. Her eyes, too, have a yellowish tint, though they’re more green-tinged than Remus'.

“It’s true!" Remus backs him up. "He actually liked my jokes on the buttons, Marlene. I told you they would sell.”

“Oh, please.” Marlene rolls her eyes. “He’s probably just simping for you.”

Sirius feels his cheeks heat up and his mouth open and close like a fish’s.

Next to Marlene, Remus hides his face, which is what Sirius would do, too, if he currently had control over his limbs.

“This is why I do the promotion and public speaking, and you handle the logistics," Remus groans, his words muffled by his hands.

“Alright, alright! I swear I didn’t come here just to embarrass you. I was actually just going to tell you that Sturgis is ready to give his speech now.”

“Oh.” 

Remus lowers his hands, blinking. 

“Well, I’d better… go and introduce him. Uhh --”

He looks at Sirius like he wants to say something else. 

Sirius swallows. “I’ll find a seat then. And… save some for James and Lily.”

“Right.” Remus nods, rubbing his hands together. “Looks like they took care of that for you, actually."

When Sirius turns around, James waves at him from a spot below a tree where he and Lily have taken refuge in the shade with their drinks. Just as he’s leaving, Sirius swears he can hear Marlene mumbling something about “useless gays” under her breath.

Sturgis Podmore, a square-jawed, flaxen-haired man, turns out to be a member of the Werewolf Liberation Association, who delivers his bit with the poise of one who is used to public speaking, matter-of-factly but not without sincerity. The WLA, he says, after their involvement in Werewolves attaining the unconditional right to marriage, is currently focusing on the right for every magical Werewolf child to attend Hogwarts and learn magic, which includes providing the necessary accommodation to make education accessible for them. He also mentions their collaboration with the SWL in a campaign for every Werewolf to receive Wolfsbane for free, before speaking more generally about his organisation’s work.

“A fact that Mr Lupin briefly addressed earlier is that Werewolves in Wolf form are incapable of rational thought. This is still contested by many Wizards and Witches because it makes prosecuting a Werewolf for crimes committed in Wolf form more difficult, and this prejudice is something we come up against in trials constantly. Controversely, Law Fifteen “B", passed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, states that a magical creature who is deemed to have near-human intelligence, and therefore considered responsible for its action, shall be held accountable in court as a human. The Wizengamot has therefore on many occasions demanded proof that a Werewolf cannot control their actions when in wolf form. Yet the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures insists there are either no funds to commission a study, or no sufficiently trained officials for such a dangerous task, in spite of the fact that we have been calling for retraining members of the Werewolf Capture Unit for years. Werewolves in court have been denied the use of Veritaserum on the unfounded claim that their genetic makeup would interfere with the effect and render the potion unreliable. This is another example of the dehumanisation and denial of human rights to Werewolves which we are dedicated to fighting. As you can tell, a Werewolf's status of humanity today is still treated as optional, and generally only granted when it suits the Ministry.”

After Sturgis Podmore honours the RWC’s efforts and points to the table for an informational leaflet about the WLA, including information about the services they provide and how to reach out to them, he leaves the podium amid generous applause.

Remus takes the desk again.

“Thank you, Mr Podmore, for this informative update on the WLA’s projects. I believe we’ve got about fifteen minutes left, so now we’d like to call upon anyone with a concern that has perhaps not been addressed yet. Please feel free to come up here and briefly say whatever you have to say.”

He moves to hover behind the table with Marlene and Dorcas. For a moment it seems like no one’s going to take the offer and the audience breaks out into lively conversation that is quite suddenly interrupted.

When Sirius glances around to see what has caused the crowd to fall silent, his eyes land on a tall, rather wild looking individual approaching the standing desk.

They are wearing a shabby leather jacket, torn jeans, and boots that have seen better days. Their hair is unevenly cropped, tattoos peak out from their sleeve hems and neckline, and their pale yellow eyes flit unceasingly across the audience. The rest of their face is hidden by a bandana pulled up above their nose.

Sirius could never achieve such a punk aesthetic if he tried. 

He doesn’t have to wonder if the person is a Werewolf, because aside from Daily Prophet images of Fenrir Greyback, he’s never seen someone look quite so wolfish.

Glancing over at his friends, he finds that James’ eyes are a little wide, and even Lily looks nervous, although she gives Sirius a thumbs up when she catches his eye.

 _It’s fine,_ Sirius reminds himself. _It’s not a full moon. And after everything Remus has said, there is no reason to fear someone just because they may be a Werewolf._

Speaking of Remus - he seems to be watching closely as the person steps up onto the podium, but gives them a nod and a smile to signal that they can start.

Sirius thinks he would probably still be intimidated by someone with spikes on their leather jacket if he saw them outside of a Werewolf rally, because how cool do you have to be to pull that off?

“We’ve just heard from the Werewolf Liberation Association,” the person begins with a raspy voice, letting their gaze sweep the audience again. “They call themselves that. But is it really liberation they’re striving for? All they do is try to make us equal to humans. But we aren’t humans.”

A row breaks out in the audience at that, and the RWC seem to be taken aback to calm it down. 

Someone from the back yells, “Who are you?”

The speaker waits until the noise has faded to continue.

“Who am I? I am a Wolf just like you. But I reckon you want a name? You can call me Alpha. My human name is of no importance, because - as I said - we are not humans. We are Werewolves. We are _always_ Werewolves, whatever skin we inhabit at the time. You all know that for centuries, the Magical society has denied us the title of human beings, degrading us to Beasts. The Ministry has shunted us back and forth between the Beings to the Beasts division. I say: Fine! Let us embrace the status of Beasts.”

They pause for a moment, but there is neither applause nor a chorus of disapproval this time. The audience sits quietly, almost as though collectively holding their breath. Sirius finds it hard to take his eyes off the strange speaker even for a moment.

“Treat us as Beasts and give us the rights of Beasts. No other Beast is subjected to attempts to cure its condition. Why should the Werewolf be any different? Why should we accept the Society for the Welfare of Lycanthropes making decisions for us? To force us to drink Wolfsbane and tame the Wolf inside? The Wolf is not an enemy, an invader, or a virus. The Wolf is a part of who we are. Why give it up? Why should we have to sacrifice the extraordinary abilities we were gifted with - our superhuman strength, speed and stealth? The ability to see life through the eyes of an animal? Why is an animagus considered the height of transformation, yet the Wolf is ostracised? These are my demands: Stop treating us as though we were sick! Let us be Beasts in peace! Let us be free and feral! Give us forests no humans can enter, where we can transform and roam! If you wish to join my pack, answer my howl at the next full moon.”

The speaker glances around like a hounded animal and just like that, they’re gone.

Sirius blinks. Sure enough, it looks like the speaker has Disapparated. 

It seems to take a moment for the realisation to sink in for everyone, then the audience bursts into confused chatter. 

“Okay!” 

Remus has stepped up to the desk, and he has to rap his knuckles against the wood several times to call attention to himself. 

“Okay everyone! Time’s running out on the Anti-Intruder Jinx so I think we’ll… end it here for today. Umm… yeah. So we’ve got leaflets up here on the table, if you want to grab those, and… don’t forget to sign up for the mailing list if you haven’t already. If you have any other questions, you can contact us on our website raisedbywolves.co, and you can find all the contact information for the WLA on their leaflet. As for leaving, please follow the instructions of the auror in charge. Right… I think that’s all. Thank you for coming, everyone, and get home safe.”

As people flock to the table, Sirius scrambles up from his seat, stretches, and dusts down his jeans. 

“So,” James starts next to him. “That was…”

He trails off, and Sirius exhales heavily. 

“Yup.”

“I was not expecting that,” Lily says.

“Don’t think anyone was,” Sirius points out. 

At the table, Remus is nodding and smiling politely at the people collecting flyers and buttons (and hopefully dropping some coins into the donation can), but he seems distracted. When Sirius catches his eye, he leaves the task to Marlene and Dorcas and comes over.

“Hey.”

He runs a hand through his hair, gripping the back of his neck for a moment.

“You guys leaving?”

“Not without saying goodbye!” Lily gives him an exaggerated cheery smile. “But I was actually hoping we could hang out for a bit.”

“Yeah, I’d love to. We’ve just got to pack up here and arrange an orderly exit for everyone so we don’t draw any Muggle attention to ourselves.” 

In front of the Shakespeare statue, Dorcas is rolling up the flag with the Wolf logo while Marlene hands out the last couple of leaflets.

“Is that your pride flag?” Sirius bursts out.

“Pardon?”

Remus blinks at him, and once again Sirius feels heat rush into his face. “The flag… with the wolves on it.”

“Oh,” Remus laughs. “No, that’s just the RWC flag. There is no official Werewolf Pride flag. Though…” he clears his throat, “some would like for us to have one...”

Before Sirius can ask him to elaborate, the tall, flaxen-haired Wizard from the WLA appears next to their little group.

“Mr Lupin. I’ll be leaving now, if you have no further use for me.”

Remus nods. “Thank you for coming, Sir. And I hope you know that… uhh… what that person said does not reflect our opinion--”

“I am aware and there are no hard feelings, Mr Lupin. My respect for your organisation is not diminished; on the contrary. You have done an admirable job. I look forward to future co-operations.” 

He nods first at Remus, then at the others before Disapparating. 

Marlene and Dorcas have evidently finished packing up in the meantime and are heading over to join them.

“You’re done already? Sorry, I meant to help.”

“Remus, I don’t know how to break this to you, but you’re not the only one who can do a Vanishing Spell.”

“She means to say,” Dorcas says, slinging an arm around Marlene’s shoulders, “it’s fine, you’ve done your part.”

Marlene rolls her eyes, but wraps her arm around Dorcas’ waist anyway.

“Right. Well, you’ve met Lily… and this is James and Sirius.”

Marlene raises an eyebrow at James who’s holding Lily’s hand. “You’re dating Lily? Jackpot.”

Lily blushes to the roots of her ginger hair, but James grins. “I know, right?”

Marlene points a finger at Sirius, whose heart picks up pace. “And you -”

“So,” Dorcas cuts in ( _bless them_ , Sirius thinks), “that was something, huh?”

Remus huffs. "I'll say. We're lucky time was running out; for a moment I was worried the auror would break up our assembly."

"You were talking to Mr Podmore, Remus - did he seem upset?"

"No worries on that front. He knows we're not associated with the speaker. He actually said he's looking forward to future co-operations." He takes a breath. "Fuck, I hate respectability politics."

Dorcas looks relieved, but Marlene shakes her head.

"If the Prophet gets wind of that speech, we can kiss those plans goodbye. The Ministry would never permit it."

"You think so? But it wasn't planned! It was an open stage, we couldn't know in advance what they would say… and besides, they technically didn't say anything illegal."

"Dorc, the Ministry won't allow their official policies to be challenged. Sure, we didn't know beforehand - but as the organisers, we're responsible for what goes down during our rally."

Remus sighs. "You think we should've shut it down? After specifically saying we wanted to amplify diverse opinions within the community? I couldn't do that, Marls."

She shrugs. "I'm just thinking strategically. Not that their opinion doesn't deserve to be heard, but their speech went against the whole purpose of the rally. Like, we're here to increase acceptance and fight dehumanisation, and they just march up there and say we're all Beasts…"

Dorcas places a hand on Remus' arm. "I don't think it's your fault. You both make valid points… I don't know. I'm just glad we could finish as planned."

Remus is staring at the ground, eyebrows furrowed.

"I didn't mean it like that," Marlene relents. "We were there, too, and neither of us tried to shut it down. - Anyway, are you coming? Dorc and I were going to go see a movie."

Remus shakes his head. "Thanks, but I'll hang out for a while. Can we debrief tomorrow?”

Marlene shrugs. “Fine by me. But in person this time, I’m not sticking my head into a fireplace at the bloody height of summer.”

They say their goodbyes and Marlene and Dorcas move to stand in line where the auror is letting people pass out of the park in small groups. 

“Right,” James claps his hands. “Where to?”

* * *

More out of habit than anything, they end up at the Leaky Cauldron. At this time, it's bursting with shoppers from Diagon Alley, many clearly returning from stocking up on school utensils for the new year at Hogwarts that is soon to begin. Even five years after graduating, Sirius still feels a little strange at the thought of the Hogwarts Express making its way through the Scottish Highlands without him on board. 

But Tom the Barkeeper has them seated within no time at a small corner table that Sirius is quite certain was a vase of flowers a second ago.

He takes their order of drinks (two butterbeers and a large jug of iced pumpkin juice to share) and jostles his way back to the bar with surprising agility.

Lily reaches for Remus' hand on the table.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. - Honestly, Lily. I expected a lot worse."

"Oh, I know, dear. It's just… none of you seemed to have expected _that._ "

Remus gives a little laugh. Sirius can't quite tell if it's really humorous. 

"No… we certainly didn't. But hey, the rally wasn't cut short and the WLA still supports us, apparently, so altogether I think it was a win."

He breaks off abruptly when Tom arrives with their drinks, and Sirius gets the notion he's deliberately resting his chin on his hand to hide the scarred side of his face.

"I thought you were great," Sirius says once Tom has left.

Remus looks at him, and Sirius finds himself thankful for the awful candle lighting that hides his blush.

To feel those fiery sunset eyes rest on him makes him want to jump into the Great Lake and let the giant squid swallow him.

"I mean - the rally," he stammers. "Your speech." 

Remus gives him a crooked smile. "Thanks. It's good to hear that it was well received by…" He lowers his voice further. "Non-Wolves."

As they are nowhere near Hogwarts' lake or the giant squid, hiding behind his pumpkin juice has to make do for Sirius. 

He's not usually this nervous around hot guys. Then again, when was the last time he met someone as devastatingly attractive as Remus?

With his curly hair and well-defined jaw, the gentle slope of his nose and his full lips, the slit through his eyebrow and his striking amber eyes framed by long lashes, and that lop-sided smile…

In the candle-light, Sirius notices the glint of an earring in his right ear. Only the right ear.

It doesn't have to mean anything, of course, but what if he --

"Sirius?"

He blinks rapidly to find James looking at him raised eyebrows.

Tom the Barkeeper is standing next to their table.

"Uhh."

"A meal for the young man?"

His stomach rumbles as if on cue, so Sirius squints at the menu board on the wall opposite and picks the first thing he can decipher, which turns out to be the soup of the day.

It's actually quite delicious if he doesn't try too hard to identify what's floating in it.

Meanwhile, Remus, James and Lily (who seem to have put more thought into their orders, as none of their dishes contain mysterious chunks) have returned to the topic of the closing speech. 

"I get it to an extent," Remus says, with a glance at the nearby tables and a low voice. "When you've had your humanity denied for so long, you might find comfort and even power in reclaiming the Beast label. That's just not something that should be applied to other people without their consent, ever. Most of us have fought so hard - and are still fighting - to be seen as human, you know…"

"Yeah, that part seemed messed up. Like, after you spent your whole speech emphasizing that point... I'm sorry, Remus." 

James takes a sip of his butterbeer. "I got the notion they wanted to disappear before anyone could call them out on that. And what was that cryptic instruction at the end? 'Follow my howl' or something?"

"Oh. That…" Remus plays with his fork, keeping his eyes on the table. "That's a thing. We tend to answer other Werewolves' howls and… follow them across the distance. That's, uhh…" He clears his throat. "Typically how packs are formed. _Were_ , mostly. Before Wolfsbane."

"Oh. Sorry, mate. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Remus shrugs. "It's cool. You didn't know. But maybe we could talk about something else now? What have you guys been up to?"

Shoppers have been bustling in from both entries for a while, but as the shops in Diagon Alley close their doors, the foot traffic becomes one-sided and slows down.

The low light and the excitement of the day have Sirius feeling drowsy although it can't be long past seven o'clock. Part of him longs to be home, take the binder off and take a relaxing shower before crawling into bed.

But another part of him doesn't want the night to end because he wants to talk to Remus for longer.

Not that he's currently contributing much to the conversation…

Lily and Remus have that comfortable rhythm that shows they have been friends for a while, and James has never had difficulty engaging in conversation with anyone. 

Sirius knows he comes off as self-assured, but he's really not the most sociable type. He's got a total of two real friends, not counting Lily, because he finds it hard to open up to people. Emotional intimacy isn't a skill the House of Black encouraged building.

And then there's Remus, who's just been standing on a podium making himself vulnerable to dozens of strangers by sharing details about his traumatic past and struggles with his identity.

Who does that to help others like him, to create a community where Werewolves can feel safe and accepted and know that life can get better, that society can change to accommodate them.

 _He's the kind of person he probably needed when he was younger_ , Sirius thinks, suddenly with a frog in his throat. _And isn't that what I want to be?_

He's so lost in thought that he hardly notices Remus getting up to squeeze past him before he's left at the table with only James and Lily.

There doesn't seem to be a point in asking them where Remus has gone to. Lily has her head on James' shoulder and he seems to be whispering to her, and Sirius very much does not want to bear witness to their conversation. 

"I'm going to the loo," he announces, although he might as well have said that to the wall with how receptive the two are.

The bathrooms are located in the back of the pub, under the staircase that leads to the first floor, and thankfully the stalls are empty.

Sirius makes use of this moment of privacy to briefly shed his binder, taking a few deep breaths and stretching until his joints pop satisfyingly. 

Better.

He still has to put it back on, but after a quick charm to remove the day's sweat it feels slightly less disgusting. 

He gives himself a discreet once-over in the mirror above the sink while an older Wizard shuffles toward the urinals. His hair is a bit dishevelled, several strands having escaped his bun throughout the day, but that's easily fixed. There's not much he can do about the flush that lingers on his cheeks though, and he's relatively sure it's not a sunburn.

Remus is evidently not in the bathroom, so unless he's gone to get another drink, Sirius has no idea where he might be. He can only hope he didn't zone out so completely that he missed him saying goodbye...

An exhausted looking Witch carries in her shopping bags from Diagon Alley just as he passes, and in the second before the back door swings shut behind her, something catches Sirius' eye:

A flicker of light in the dusk.

He stops the door with a shoulder pressed against it.

There in the small yard, leaning against the bricks opposite the bins, is a tall figure, the rays of the setting sun reaching like fingers over the wall to Diagon Alley to caress his face.

Even with his hand cupped in front of his mouth, Remus is unmistakable. 

When he draws the hand away to pocket his wand, revealing a hand-rolled cigarette dangling from his lips, Sirius slips outside. Remus turns his head as the door falls shut, pulling the corner of his mouth up into a lopsided smile when his eyes land on Sirius. The sunset pales in direct comparison to their warm glow. 

The unsettling sensation of his stomach doing a somersault makes Sirius feel very glad that he hasn't had any alcohol.

He watches as Remus takes the cigarette from his lips and tips his head back, blowing smoke up into the darkening sky. The smell is quite distinctly not tobacco.

Remus nods at him, one corner of his mouth curled up in the hint of a smile. 

“Have you come to fetch me?”

Sirius shakes his head, leaning against the wall with one shoulder in a show of nonchalance.

“Just came back from the loos and saw you out here. Figured I’d join you.”

His heart is beating like he’s just run a marathon, and it’s getting a bit ridiculous.

 _He’s not going to bite me,_ Sirius tells himself, and then just barely manages not to flinch.

Oh, Merlin. Terrible choice of proverb.

His face must still be showing some kind of reaction, because Remus looks a little concerned. 

“Is it bothering you? I can put it out,” he offers, though he looks rather unhappy about it.

“Oh, no, no, it’s fine. I'm just - uhh, a little cold.” 

Truthfully, he feels feverish just being in Remus' presence, but now that the sun is going down, the day's heat is fading and he's only in a tank top.

Without batting an eyelash, Remus sheds his lumberjack shirt.

"Here." 

And before Sirius can tell him that's not necessary, Remus has draped it gingerly over his bare shoulders.

The fabric feels soft and washed out against his skin, and he holds himself back from sniffing it for a whiff of Remus' scent.

"T-thanks," he stutters, slipping his arms into the sleeves. He's not cold, but like hell is he going to pass up this opportunity.

Looking at Remus is enough to make him blush, especially now that he's in a t-shirt (one with the RWC logo on it like the ones his friends were wearing) and his arms are exposed, so Sirius tilts his head up to look at the sky. 

A few stars have already come out, and the moon is a pale crescent half-hidden by clouds. 

_I wonder how he feels seeing that_ , Sirius thinks, just before Remus murmurs his name - softly, as though he's pondering.

Sirius looks over at him, but Remus is staring up into the sky. 

"That's a star, isn't it? The brightest one or something like that?"

Sirius nods when Remus glances at him for confirmation, taking another drag of his joint.

"That one?" 

Sirius has to step up close to follow the direction of his finger with his eyes.

"Uh, no. That'd be the polestar. You want to find Orion first, or Canis Major, but that only works during the winter."

"Ah," Remus says, cocking his head to the side as his eyes roam the night sky. 

"Could you point me to it?"

Then he looks at Sirius with a puppy dog expression that almost knocks him over. It should be a crime to be this cute; he simply has too much power over Sirius.

"Sure." 

Remus still has his arm outstretched - the hand that's not holding the joint - so Sirius takes a deep breath and wraps his fingers gingerly around his wrist to guide him.

"That's Orion's belt," he says, trying not to think about how soft and warm the inside of Remus' wrist feels against his fingertips, how he can feel his pulse throb faintly just below the skin.

"And then you just trace a line down and left from there… that's it. The Dog Star."

Sirius reluctantly lets go of Remus' wrist, his hand falling empty to his side.

Remus hums, his eyes still focused on Sirius' namesake. 

"So in a way, you're a fellow canine," he hums.

Sirius swallows, his eyes trained on Remus' face.

"I guess you could say that."

Finally, after blowing another cloud of smoke up into the night, Remus lowers his eyes again. They seem almost luminous in the twilight.

"It's a pretty name. Good choice."

"Thanks," Sirius smiles. "I like yours, too."

"Well, I can hardly take credit for that. Although I did let it inspire me in naming our collective."

It takes Sirius a moment to make the connection, but then he gasps.

"Raised by Wolves… Remus and Romulus, the twins being nursed by a wolf!"

Remus nods.

"Holy shit, that's _clever._ "

"Thanks." Remus lets out a soft laugh, extending a hand toward Sirius.

For a fleeting, delirious moment, he thinks Remus wants him to hold his hand, but then he realises he's holding the joint out to him.

"Want to take a drag?"

Sirius blinks. 

"Are you sure?"

Remus shrugs.

"No pressure if you don't, but the offer stands."

"I - yeah, thanks." 

Sirius takes the joint off him with shaking fingers. The brush of Remus' skin against his sets off sparks in his stomach.

He exhales slowly and with control before bringing the joint to his lips and taking a drag. Letting the smoke linger in his mouth for a second, he inhales deeply before breathing it out.

Remus' face is unreadable when Sirius hands the joint back to him, his gaze intense.

"That's good stuff."

Remus hums, lifting the joint to his lips. 

"Helps with the anxiety."

Sirius could really use something to calm his nerves, with how his mind is currently racing.

To think that Sirius' lips have touched what Remus' are now embracing…

"Think they're missing us in there?"

Sirius blinks. It takes him a good two seconds to remember who Remus is referring to.

"Who, the lovebirds? I doubt they've even noticed we're gone."

Remus grins. "You may be right. They're kind of cute together, huh?"

Sirius shrugs. "In a really obnoxious sort of way, yeah."

The laugh that bursts out of Remus is accompanied by little puffs of smoke, giving the impression of a dragon.

 _Well, he's hot enough to be one, anyway_ , Sirius thinks.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"Huh?"

"Earlier, for when Marlene called you a simp…" Remus shakes his head, but can't quite hide a little smirk. "She has no filter, you know. And ever since I came out as bi, she's been trying to hook me up with someone."

"Oh," Sirius says.

 _He's bi_ , the little gay voice in his brain yells. _He's bi, he's bi, he's bi!_

 _That doesn't mean he's into me_ , Sirius argues back.

 _You'll never know if you don't shoot your shot_ , his gay inner voice responds, and that is a good point, Sirius has to concede. 

"That's alright," he continues weakly, steeling himself - but one glance at Remus' face makes his stomach plummet, so instead, he asks, "She's dating Dorcas, right?"

“Yeah. Back when we were just starting the Collective a few years ago, Marlene found one of their blog posts and reached out to interview them. That interview then turned into a date, and not long after Dorcas joined us.” He takes a drag. “She just goes for what she wants.”

Sirius watches the smoke escape from his lips. 

The confession sits on his tongue, pressing against his teeth, waiting to burst forward.

He takes a breath, turning his head away, and his eyes find the sliver of the moon.

“Well,” he starts, heart beating against his throat. “She wasn’t wrong.”

There’s a moment of quiet, and Sirius glances over to see Remus’ eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

He swallows, keeping his gaze steady. “I do think you’re really attractive. I mean, handsome. I mean -”

Remus stares at him, breathing out a soft “oh.”

_Ah, shit._

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to - nevermind.”

Sirius’ heart is beating out of his chest. Maybe he should go inside, leave Remus alone…

But when he turns away, suddenly there’s a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

“No, it’s cool! I’m just surprised. I don’t... hear that a lot. So - thank you.”

Like the moon, Remus’ face is half hidden in shadow, half illuminated by yellowish light. There’s a gut-wrenching beauty to it, like the way you feel looking at the night sky. 

It’s a tragedy, Sirius thinks, no - an _outrage_ \- that Remus isn’t told this every day.

He feels decidedly more light-headed than he should be from one drag of the joint.

As though reading his mind, Remus holds it out to him again. 

It’s barely more than a stub now. Really, he should decline; smoking while binding is not a good idea.

Instead, he nods.

And then, instead of waiting for Sirius to take the joint from him, Remus holds it to his mouth, his fingers just barely brushing Sirius’ lips.

Sirius isn’t sure how he manages to take a steady breath rather than falling into a coughing fit. 

All too soon, Remus draws his hand away to stub the joint out against the brick wall, and Sirius tips his head back and watches the smoke he’s exhaling waft up into the night.

Maybe it’s the calming effect of the weed, maybe it’s the tranquility of the evening - at any rate, when Sirius turns his head and finds Remus already looking at him, gaze zeroed in on his mouth, he doesn’t feel nervous anymore.

They’re standing very close, almost shoulder to shoulder.

Sirius watches the bob of Remus’ Adam's apple when he swallows, letting his eyes travel up past his full, slightly parted lips to his half-lidded amber eyes.

He whispers, “Remus,” and Remus’ gaze flickers up to meet his.

He takes another step towards Sirius and his voice is husky and soft when he says, “I’d really like to kiss you now.”

Sirius takes a breath of the air that lingers between them and whispers, “So go ahead.”


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well,” Sirius murmurs, his face still pressed into Remus’ shoulder. “I was kind of hoping you would…” He trails off.
> 
> Remus’ hands settle on his waist.
> 
> “Hoping I would do what?”
> 
> Why must it be so mortifying to voice your desires? Can’t he simply project his thoughts into Remus’ head? Honestly, there probably is a spell for that by now, but unfortunately Sirius doesn’t know it.
> 
> Sirius lets out a sigh. “I was hoping you would use your teeth.”
> 
> Remus doesn’t respond immediately. Finally, when Sirius is about to pull away and sneak a glance at his face, he asks in an inscrutable tone, “Are you asking me to bite you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the entirely self-indulgent epilogue bc by deciding to cut off before their kiss in the first chapter i also deprived myself of the joy of reading it. so here they basically just make out n that's it you're welcome
> 
> (IT'S FLUFF I PROMISE there is literally only like. 0.1% angst and it's over quickly!! in this house sirius and remus get all the happiness they deserve!!!!)

Remus is waiting for him on the steps of the university building, leaning against the stair-rail. Sirius sees him immediately when he comes out the door, although his massive scarf almost swallows him, hiding the lower half of his face and billowing around him in the wind.

He looks very dramatic, all windswept like this and dressed in autumn colours, like straight out of an indie movie. His hair would be blowing in the wind, too, if it wasn't for the beanie.

 _My boyfriend_ , Sirius thinks, unable to bite back a smile as he skips towards him.

Remus' eyes seem to warm when he sees him, and he pushes away from the banister.

"Hey you." Sirius gets up on his toes to brush a kiss against his cheek.

"Hey." Remus smiles, taking a hold of Sirius' hands and looking him over, as though he wants to commit his face to memory.

Meanwhile Sirius, dressed in a faux fur lined leather jacket himself, scrutinises Remus' jumper. 

"You're not wearing a coat," he observes. "Aren't you cold?"

Remus shrugs, pulling the scarf up over his mouth again. 

"I don't often get cold. One of the perks. This is just a convenient accessory, because I didn't feel like being stared at today."

"Oh," Sirius bites his lip. 

That makes sense; it goes a long way towards hiding his scars from view. But -

"You should've said. You didn't have to come pick me up if you don't feel --"

Remus silences him quite effectively with a simple gesture: he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair back behind his ear. 

"I wanted to."

Sirius feels his cheeks heat up a little.

"Okay." Then he frowns. "Did you say one of the perks? You mean it's a," he lowers his voice, "wolf thing?"

Remus nods. "My body temperature is usually about a degree above the human average."

"Damn, you're like… my personal space heater."

Remus breathes a laugh and slings his arm around Sirius' shoulders. Pressed against his side like this, Sirius imagines he can feel his warmth radiating through the fabric.

"Like I said - perks."

They start down the stairs. 

"So where do you want to go? Movie? Dinner?"

"Let's just go to yours," Sirius says, glancing at the shadows under Remus' eyes. It's three days until the full moon. "I'm a little tired."

* * *

In the years since he's left Hogwarts, especially since enrolling at university, Sirius has grown accustomed to Muggle transport. You never know who might see you suddenly appear somewhere and lose their head, so in a way, it's just safer than Apparating.

It does have its disadvantages though.

There are no seats at first, and they have to stand holding on to the grabpoles. Remus smirks when the jolting railway wagon pushes them against each other, but Sirius can tell by the way he sways that he'd rather be sitting down.

He's the last person to ask someone else to stand, though, and Sirius doesn't want to embarrass him. But he's not above snatching a seat for Remus when a group of passengers get up to leave.

Remus gives him a subtle, grateful smile before he pulls the scarf up again. The Tube's heating is on, he must be sweating. No one seems to be paying any particular attention to them, but Sirius can relate. He's no stranger to wearing layers upon layers and imagining people will still be able to tell his chest isn't flat.

He's aching to pull Remus close, but that's another disadvantage. Sirius isn't holding back on PDA for his own sake; he's caused his fair share of public scandals, some very deliberately. 

But part of dating someone is looking out for them and considering their needs. And that Remus he met at the rally - bold, outspoken, putting himself in the public eye - is only one side of him. Sirius knows that it takes a lot of energy to advocate for yourself. Especially now, in the week leading up to the full moon, Remus' energy is running low.

Of course, if they were a straight couple, they could be making out right now and no one would be batting an eye. But God forbid if he wants to comfort his boyfriend by holding his hand...

 _Patience_ , Sirius tells himself, _it's only a few more minutes._

* * *

Remus lives in a hall of residence, in a tiny one-room flat, but he's got his own bathroom and a kitchenette squeezed between desk and bed. 

It's... cosy. There's about a hundred books occupying every available surface, a knitted bedspread in rainbow colours ("courtesy of my mum after I came out"), and most importantly there is Remus, who makes for an excellent pillow, in Sirius' opinion.

They could go to his place, of course, his room alone at the Potter manor is a great deal bigger than Remus' whole flat. But that would mean introducing Remus to the Potters - Mr and Mrs Potter, that is, or Fleamont and Euphemia, as he calls them - and it just seems a little too early for that. They only met two months ago, and have been official for a little over half of that.

He doesn't want to overthink it. All he knows for sure is that he _likes_ Remus, likes being with him, and time will tell the rest.

Priority number one right now is kissing him. And fortunately, Remus seems to agree with him in this regard. They're barely through the door before he's pinned Sirius against it, discarded the scarf, and kissed him square on the mouth. 

It hasn't lost its novelty yet - that hot spark that ignited in his stomach the first time they kissed, under the stars in the Leaky Cauldron's backyard, flares up again now.

Sirius winds his arms around Remus' neck and pulls him closer.

* * *

Eventually, they do part for long enough to get comfortable on Remus' bed, Remus leaning back against a bunch of pillows and Sirius sandwiched between his legs with his back to Remus' chest. Even though he was mostly concerned with Remus' fatigue before, Sirius finds his own eyelids drooping now. The feeling of Remus running his fingers through his hair is just too relaxing.

"How's your project going?" Remus asks in a murmur. His lips are caressing the shell of Sirius' ear, making him shiver.

He bites his lip.

"It's… I've got a vague idea. Nothing definitive, and I'm not sure how to execute it yet."

Sirius pulls Remus’ arms around himself. He’s already taken off the jumper since he’s always warm, and his arms are dotted with scratch marks that Sirius didn’t notice that first night in the low light behind the Leaky Cauldron. _Many Werewolves, in trying to isolate themselves to protect others,_ Remus’ voice says in his head, _end up inflicting injuries upon themselves._

The Remus of the present hums. "Well, you've got time, right?"

"Yup," Sirius confirms. “I just have to hand in a draft before Christmas.”

He's a little relieved Remus isn't asking more questions. 

The theme of this semester's art project is "Rebirth", so the obvious choice for Sirius was to make something about his transition. He's got free choice of form and materials, which in a way makes it harder. There are so many things he could do - a painting, a collage, a statue - and that's not even going into what materials he wants to work with.

But he does have an idea about what he wants to depict. A few days ago, he woke up with an image in his head of a boy crawling out of a wolf's mouth. It's perfect - a symbol of breaking free of the way he's been perceived by others, revealing his true self to the world - but it could also very well be talking about Werewolves, and he doesn't want to weird Remus out. They've only known each other for so short a time…

It feels like longer though.

“Sirius?”

“Huh?”

Remus presses a kiss to the top of his head, which makes Sirius’ knees feel weak even though he’s sitting down.

“I asked if you could let me up for a minute.”

“Oh. Yes, sure.” 

He shuffles forward reluctantly so Remus can get off the bed. 

“Thanks, babe.”

He says it in passing, as though the endearment just falls naturally off his lips.

_Babe._

Sirius can feel his cheeks heating up as he sits stunned into silence. 

Remus meanwhile has moved to the kitchenette and taken out a dark bottle from which he pours himself a cup. The liquid does not look very appetising, and there’s a faint blue smoke rising from the cup when Remus sets the bottle down. He doesn’t look exactly thrilled about the prospect of drinking either, turning to Sirius with a wry smile and lifting the cup towards him like he’s proposing a toast. 

“Cheers.”

Sirius watches him drain the cup even as his hand clenches around the neck of the bottle. 

“Ugh. God.” Remus wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, his face screwed up and body shuddering in disgust.

“What -” Sirius starts, a little helpless.

Remus turns the bottle around so he can see the label.

_Wolfsbane._

“Oh, right.”

“You’d think I’d be used to the taste by now, but it’s just so vile.” 

“Can’t you… mix it into something?”

Remus sighs. “Unfortunately, if you add anything to sweeten the taste, it renders the effects useless. One time I tried to have it with hot chocolate. It was… not a good time. Zero out of ten, would not recommend.”

“Yikes. I guess I’m lucky I don’t have to guzzle a testosterone cocktail every morning.”

Remus huffs a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t imagine that’d taste great, either.”

Sirius hums, reaching out his arms. “Come back?”

“Give me a second.”

Remus disappears into the bathroom and Sirius can hear the sound of running water. 

“Don’t want to subject you to that revolting taste,” he explains, climbing back onto the bed. “By the way, d’you want to pick a movie or something?”

* * *

  
  


Remus comes to regret that offer before long because Sirius has chosen _Twilight_.

It’s not like it matters what they’re watching, because they’re not actually watching it anyway. The movie is quickly reduced to background noise when Remus starts mouthing at Sirius’ neck.

He lets out a shaky breath, blinking rapidly.

Remus’ arms are wrapped securely around his waist, holding him snug against his chest, and their height difference gives him excellent access to Sirius’ neck. His kisses wander from Sirius’ jaw to the spot behind his ear and then down from there.

Sirius is biting his lip to swallow down the noises threatening to escape him, but then Remus opens his mouth and flicks his tongue against the sensitive skin below his throat, and Sirius _whimpers_.

Remus pauses, holding still. He must be able to feel it when Sirius swallows.

“You like that?” he murmurs against Sirius’ skin.

Sirius lets out a breath, tipping his head back so it’s resting on Remus’ shoulder, exposing the full length of his neck.

“I -- yeah.”

Remus hums thoughtfully and continues his slow exploration, only stopping briefly to ask, “do you mind if I leave marks?” to which Sirius responds with a stammer of “Oh. Ah. No. _Please_ do.”

His heart is beating hard against his ribcage and he could hardly say what’s happening on screen right now. Not that he _cares_ when he’s got Remus sucking a bruise into the side of his neck. 

People are going to see it when he leaves, he thinks with a thrill. Of course, he could hide it with a spell - and he might actually do that once he gets home, so the Potters don’t ask --

Remus pulls away and when Sirius manages to blink his eyes open, he looks very smug indeed.

His eyes are burning embers. 

Sirius feels like he’s burning up, too, so he pulls off his hoodie.

Remus’ eyes seem more heavy-lidded when he emerges from the fabric and tosses it aside.

“Not thinking about Robert Pattinson now, are you?”

Sirius splutters. “Was I ever!”

Remus bites his lip. “You did seem a little interested, yeah.”

“What? No, I just picked the movie because I think it’s funny what they get wrong about Vampires!”

“Hmm, sure.” Remus grins. 

Sirius’ blush deepens, if that’s even possible.

“You shut your mouth.”

“Make me.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice.

Remus’ lips are just so kissable. And so is the rest of his face. 

Sirius turns around so he’s kneeling in front of him, between his bent legs, and puts his hands on Remus’ shoulders. Following the lines of his scars, he trails kisses up from the corner of his mouth to his temple. 

When he pulls away, Remus holds on to his wrists. 

His face is doing something complicated, but then he tips his head forward until their foreheads are pressed together and whispers, “You are so lovely, Sirius, you know that?”

Sirius exhales heavily, closing his eyes. “No, you.”

He can feel Remus’ soft laughter in puffs of air against his face before he moves to hide it against his chest. 

Remus’ arms loop around him, and his mouth is conveniently close to Sirius’ neck again.

“Were you done with that then?” 

“Did you not want me to be?” 

“Well,” Sirius murmurs, his face still pressed into Remus’ shoulder. “I was kind of hoping you would…” He trails off.

Remus’ hands settle on his waist.

“Hoping I would do what?”

Why must it be so mortifying to voice your desires? Can’t he simply project his thoughts into Remus’ head? Honestly, there probably is a spell for that by now, but unfortunately Sirius doesn’t know it.

Sirius lets out a sigh. “I was hoping you would use your teeth.”

Remus doesn’t respond immediately. Finally, when Sirius is about to pull away and sneak a glance at his face, he asks in an inscrutable tone, “Are you asking me to bite you?”

_Oh, fuck._

Sirius jerks away, his eyes wide. “Oh my god. Fuck, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking - I didn’t mean -”

There is another scar, the one Remus usually hides by wearing high collars or scarves - a large bite mark on the junction of his neck and shoulder. He’s trusted Sirius enough not to hide it from his eyes, and yet here he is, cocking everything up. Potentially triggering his boyfriend's most traumatic memory! Why can’t he ever think before he speaks?

“Sirius.”

“Remus, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I just forgot - I know I shouldn’t, but -”

“ _Sirius._ ”

Remus takes his face into his hands. 

Sirius blinks. He doesn’t look upset. Just a little… concerned?

“Hey,” Remus swipes the pads of his thumbs across Sirius’ cheeks. “I’m not offended. I was only teasing.”

Sirius lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry to freak you out like that. I just thought it was… well, kind of funny.”

“Your sense of humour,” Sirius says weakly, “is really something else.”

Remus raises his eyebrows. “Hey, you knew that from the beginning.”

“Yes, but… still.”

Sirius is sure there was more he wanted to say, but it’s always a little difficult to concentrate on words when Remus’ mouth is so close to his. 

“If only there was a way to make it up to you…” Remus pretends to muse.

Sirius very pointedly tilts his head to the side.

“Ah, right! Almost forgot about that.”

“Just bite me already,” Sirius whines.

Remus grins. “I guess now I know why you picked that movie.”

And then, like the absolute villain that he is, he leans in and starts to nibble on a spot right below Sirius’ jaw so he can’t even deny the allegation.

He can’t do much of anything except hold onto Remus’ shoulders for dear life and try not to moan too loudly. 

“Ah, _fuck_...”

Remus soothes the skin with a gentle kiss and moves on to his throat.

But he’s barely opened his mouth before Sirius feels him huff against his skin and hears a chuckle.

He swallows, trying and failing to catch a glimpse of Remus’ face.

“What?”

“It’s - nothing. I just -”

And then Remus starts laughing in earnest. 

“You - I’m sorry, but - you must admit it's a little -” He gasps out incoherently, pressing his face against Sirius’ sternum.

It takes a full minute until he’s calmed down enough to speak.

“You have a _biting kink_ ,” he giggles, “and you’re _dating a Werewolf._ ”

“I _do not_ have a biting kink!”

“Oh, yeah?” Remus lifts his head, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Is that why you were salivating over Edward Cullen?”

“I was _not_ \--”

Remus smirks at him, but then that smirk slowly softens into a smile.

"What do you think are the chances for that?"

Sirius is still a little flustered so he shrugs and suggests, somewhat off-handedly, "Seems like we found each other."

Almost as soon as he's said it, he wishes he could take it back. That's way too intense, isn't it?

But Remus' eyes look like molten gold when he says, "Seems like we did."

* * *

Later, when the movie is over and the sun has gone down, the waxing moon peeking in through the window finds Remus sound asleep and Sirius sprawled out on top of him, nestled comfortably against his chest. 

It’s only then that he remembers the news he wanted to tell him.

On their first official date, about a week and a half after the rally, they had talked about their aspirations. Remus had asked him what he liked about studying art, and Sirius had swallowed his usual _“It pisses my parents off because it’s a useless degree”_ answer in favour of honesty. _“I like making things. Especially things that I can’t put into words.”_

And he had asked Remus if he was training to be a teacher at Hogwarts, in which case the perpetually available position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor might be a safe bet. _“It would be cool to teach those kids the truth about Werewolves for once, but I’m not pinning my hopes on it. If they’re not willing to make arrangements for a Werewolf student, do you really think they’d hire one? Parents would be pulling their children out left and right as soon as word got out - and it would get out, because_ look at me _. - But there will always be kids who can’t attend school, whether they’re Wolves or chronically ill or disabled… And they have a right to a decent education, too.”_

So Remus is going to be a private tutor, and a damn good one at that, Sirius is sure. He’s studying at a Muggle university as well as immersing himself in the core subjects taught at Hogwarts - Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy and Herbology. 

The only thing he hasn’t got yet is a student.

And Sirius’ cousin Andromeda, a fellow Black family outcast, has just recently had to withdraw her nine-year-old from Muggle primary school because books kept going up in flames around her. She’s going to need a teacher until she can start at Hogwarts, and all the better if it’s someone who can help her get a grip on her magic.

Remus is going to be thrilled about this chance, or so Sirius hopes.

But that can wait until later, he decides, looking up at Remus’ peaceful face. For now, Remus needs rest.

And Sirius is quite content to snuggle up to him and doze off as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, kids, it's perfectly safe to snog a Werewolf... given that it's not a full moon.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have read this far - thank you! Have some of my notes on the pro-Werewolf organisations, as a treat.
> 
> Society for the Welfare of Lycanthropes (SWL) - the oldest pro-Werewolf organisation. Rather conservative, mostly concerned with health, considers lycanthropy to be a chronic illness. Fights for accommodating Werewolves with Wolfsbane for free as well as enabling them to attend school safely. Controversely, within the society there are many non-lycanthrope voices, and they cooperate closely with the Registry and the Ministry. Demands such as mandatory wolfsbane as well as preventing the spread of lycanthropy to the point of attempting to eradicate the condition are not universally welcomed by Werewolves!
> 
> Werewolf Liberation Association (WLA) - concerned with achieving equal legal status as humans, gives legal aid to Werewolves e.g. in trials for crimes committed while in wolf form. As part of demanding legal equality, the WLA has been involved in allowing Werewolves to marry, ending the mandatory sterilisation before marriage and thus allowing procreation, and the right for every magical Werewolf child to attend school and learn magic. (However, accessibility and accommodation for their condition are still a big issue.)
> 
> Raised by Wolves Collective (RWC) - the only entirely Werewolf-founded and -led organisation. Focused on community, mutual aid and support, as well as spreading awareness.


End file.
